


In A Fuzzy Orange Sweater

by ArchOfImagine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (kinda), Asexual Dean Winchester, Brain Damage, Cock Warming, Daddy!Sam, Dubious Consent, Inappropriate Desires, Kid Fic, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mentions of Dean/Cas - Freeform, Naked Cuddling, Out of Character Dean Winchester, Prostate Milking, Sexual Tension, brain injuries, caretaker!sam, injured!dean, nanny!Cas, vegan!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 07:06:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12765723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchOfImagine/pseuds/ArchOfImagine
Summary: For four years, Sam has been responsible for taking care of his brother Dean, after Dean suffered a serious brain injury in a car accident. While he deals with the changes to his brother's personality, he also has to concur being a single father to a bright five-year-old girl, and keeping a roof over everyone's head.There's vegan cooking disasters, a live-in nanny with perpetual bedhead and bright blue eyes, and the occasional inappropriate action or desire that makes him realize he's definitely going to hell forthosethoughts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is, by far, a story that I have loved writing. I had at one point gotten stuck with it, but after a quick rewrite of some details, the words flowed like gravy. If at any time you think that Dean is out of character, I want you to remember that TBI (traumatic brain injuries) can cause these changes on a day to day basis. If you think that Sam is a terrible human being for any of his thoughts or actions, just know that both he and I agree with you -- but he does nothing with a malicious intent at any point in this story. He loves his brother and he wants to do whatever he can to make his brother happy.

Sam walked in from work on Friday night and immediately scrunched up his nose at the _smell_ permeating the air in the house. It smelled like rotten cheese and a dirty locker room. Pulling at his tie to loosen it, Sam made his way into the kitchen, where the smell seemed to be originating from, and wasn’t at all surprised to see his brother standing in front of the stove. Over the past couple years, Dean had gained an affinity for making weird creations in the kitchen — most of which weren’t actually edible. “If you’re going to make something so disgusting, can you at least leave the windows open?”

Dean looked up briefly, before shrugging. “It was attracting those cats from next door.”

Of course it was. Even still, Sam made his way over and began opening the windows in the kitchen, as well as the sliding glass door that went out to the back deck, making sure the screen was shut tight to prevent the cats from showing up. “What are you even making?”

“Candles,” Dean replied.

Sam was fairly certain that candles were supposed to smell _good_ and not like whatever madness was currently circulating in his home, but had learned not to argue with his brother’s logic. “Is Kara home yet? Cas was on carpool duty.”

“Nope. He may have texted, I heard the ding, but I haven’t been able to find my phone since this morning.”

Sam’s gaze moved from the gooey concoction Dean was stirring on the stove, to the scattered recipe books, papers, and general mess that filled the kitchen counters and island. It was no wonder Dean hadn’t seen his phone, but the fact that his brother barely tried to keep track of the thing, probably didn’t help matters. He spotted a blinking light lying beneath a few papers and brushed aside the mess to pull the phone free. It was covered in flour, which Sam blew off before unlocking the phone and checking the message. Sure enough, the text was from his daughter Kara’s nanny saying that he was taking Kara to a drop-in gymnastics class that ended at eight.

Setting the phone back down, since he knew Dean really didn’t care if he had access to it or not, Sam turned back to his brother. “They’ll be home at eight. I’m gonna go take a shower. Since our counters are currently indisposed... shall we go out for dinner?”

“I told Benny last night to save us a table.” There was a pause, before Dean turned to him and made a ‘shooing’ motion with his hands. “Get out of here. You’re messing up the qi.”

“You’re so weird,” he mumbled, stepping out of the room and heading for the stairs. Four years before, when his brother had suffered in a major car accident and been diagnosed with brain trauma from the event, Sam hadn’t thought twice before moving his brother into the house he shared with his daughter. It took some adjusting, dealing with Dean’s injuries and mood changes, as well as Kara learning to walk and talk, but they had somehow made it through.

Dean was different after that, though. The doctor had explained to Sam that the brain injury his brother had experienced was severe enough to almost completely change his personality, and he may work through the trauma and get back to normal, or they may just have to accept his current state as the ‘new’ normal. After four years, Sam had learned to live with the changes. Dean, who had spent the first thirty-four years of his life living fast, loose, and wild, was now a self-proclaimed hippy who ate only vegan foods and had no interest in relationships that went beyond a brief cuddle on the couch.

He was also susceptible to bouts of high emotions, both negative and positive, which is how Sam had quickly learned to ignore the kitchen mess — it looked terrible at the moment, but he knew from experience that Dean would clean every last bit of it once his ‘experiment’ was over (thankfully, one of his new idiosyncrasies was a need to have a clean environment at the end of each day).

After a quick shower in his room upstairs, Sam got dressed in dark wash jeans and an old soft t-shirt from his alma mater, before heading back downstairs. In the thirty minutes that he had been away, the kitchen had gone from a smelly disaster zone, to a clean candle shop. The papers and mess were gone, books stacked neatly in one corner, and candles were hanging by their wicks along a string that Dean had tied up over the counters. Dean was currently finishing up washing the pots that he had used and Sam walked up, patting his brother on the shoulder, “Why don’t you go change your clothes? I’ll finish this.”

“Thanks,” Dean managed, hand flexing a bit after passing off the sponge. One of his other lingering injury side effects was random muscle spasms. Dean turned and walked a couple steps away, before moving back to Sam’s side. Sam looked over to his brother, watching as Dean stood staring at him for a moment. He was just about to ask what Dean needed, when the older man leaned forward and placed a very brief kiss on his cheek. Dean then pulled back, eyes a bit wide and hand moving up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbled, ducking his head and rushing away.

Sam smiled, shaking his head at the event as he began finishing the dishes. New-Dean was weird, yes, but Sam couldn’t help but to love him even more. Old-Dean would have never shown such a pure glimpse of gratitude.

* * *

After his accident, doctors had deemed Dean unfit to have a regular job. The ups and downs were so irregular that almost any position could equal harm for Dean or the employer. It wasn’t that big of a deal — Sam’s own position at the top of a well-known finance company meant that he made more than enough to care for Dean and Kara without a struggle. 

Thankfully, it also allowed him to take time off at the drop of a hat when the ‘downs’ hit. Like when he woke up Tuesday morning to screaming. He hurried out of his bedroom, dressed only in a pair of sleep pants, and rushed down the hall to where the sound was coming from (Dean’s bedroom). 

“Daddy?”

He turned back to see Kara peeking her head out of her bedroom, looking sleep worn. “It’s fine, Kay, go back to sleep.” She gave a gentle nod and went back into her room, as Sam continued onto his brother’s bedroom.

When he opened the door, he found his brother sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, with clothes spread out in heaps surrounding him. He had gone from screaming, to choking on sobs, and Sam barely wasted a second thought, before falling onto the floor beside him and pulling Dean against his body. 

He realized belatedly, as he curled around Dean and rocked him gently, that his brother was sitting there naked. _Shit._ It was a memory day. “Dean?” he whispered, moving one hand up to brush through Dean’s hair as gently as possible.

Dean seemed much smaller than he was, as he snuggled closer to Sam, face buried in Sam’s neck and tears falling onto Sam’s own bare chest. He hadn’t even thought to grab a shirt in his rush to get to his brother, but now he was glad he hadn’t since skin-on-skin contact seemed to help combat the emotions the quickest.

There were words mumbled against his chest, but they were unintelligible, which meant the temporary memory issues were also affecting Dean’s speech. He kissed his brother’s forehead and continued to hold him, waiting for the high emotions to slowly dissipate. When he spotted Dean’s cellphone lying in the mess a few feet away, he leaned over to grab the device.

`**Dean:** Cas, it’s Sam. Dean’s having an episode and I need to get him back in bed, can you come help?`

`**Castiel:** On my way.`

Castiel had started out as just a on-call nanny when Dean first moved in and Sam would need extra help on certain days — most of the time baby Kara had spent at a daycare, so she could have interactions with other children. At some point, though, it had become obvious that having him nearby 24/7 would make much more sense. _’What if I’m here while you’re at work and something happens?’_ Dean had asked, and it was such a valid point that Sam was kind of upset he hadn’t thought about it before. They had the storage space above the garage remodeled into a one bedroom apartment, and Sam worked out a salary system so he wouldn’t feel bad for calling on Castiel for help at weird hours of the night.

He watched the minutes tick by on Dean’s phone, as he continued to rock his brother. The crying had slowed, and Sam was actually beginning to think that Dean might be asleep. 

There was a noise downstairs, followed by quick footsteps heading up the staircase. A few seconds later, Castiel was standing in the doorway looking concerned. He stared at Sam and Dean for a moment, before taking in the mess of clothes and Dean’s nudity. “Memory?” he asked, slowly stepping forward. Sam nodded, and Cas bypassed both men to pull the sheets down on the bed. When he moved back to them, he leaned down to look at Dean’s face. “He’s asleep. Let me take his weight while you stand, and then we can get him back to bed.”

Sam nodded again and watched as Cas knelt down, placing one arm behind Dean’s head, and the other under his knees. Once he had lifted Dean away from Sam’s body, Sam quickly stood up before mimicking Castiel’s pose. Together, they lifted his brother up and carried him over to the bed. When Dean was in place, Sam stepped back and watched in confusion as Cas started stripping his own clothes off.

“What are you—”

“I’m going to lay with him for a while. If we just leave him in this state, it won’t get better. But if he wakes up with a comforting presence, then it might restart his memory.” Castiel stood in only his boxers and looked across the bed at Sam. “Unless you’d rather snuggle naked with him?”

Sam motioned for the other man to go ahead, and watched as Castiel kicked his boxers off before laying on the bed and curling up along Dean’s back. Sam helped to get the blankets in place over both men, before moving to the door. “I’m going to take the day off. If he’s having a bad day, odds are it’ll last, so I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He reached out for the handle of Dean’s bedroom door, and was about to close it, when he saw the gentle kisses that Cas was placing along the back of Dean’s neck. _Intimate_ , came to mind, but he shook it off. “Thanks, Cas,” he whispered, before pulling the door shut.

Once back in his own bedroom, he sent a quick message off to his secretary to let her know that he wouldn’t be in the office that day, before climbing back into bed. It was probably going to be a long day, so he might as well catch a little bit more sleep before the chaos started.

* * *

Sam sat in bed watching the news and messing around on his laptop for an hour, before he decided there was no use trying to sleep again and took a shower. Once he was dressed for the day, he stepped out of his bedroom and moved down the hall to Dean’s room. After a soft tap on the door, he quietly pushed it open and looked inside. 

His brother sat on the bed, still naked, with his legs crossed in front of him and his elbows resting on his knees. Castiel, now dressed, was picking up each item of clothing, holding it up for Dean to give a ‘yay’ or ‘nay’ grunt, and then putting it away when the answer was ultimately nay. 

When Sam stepped into his room, Castiel looked in his direction. “We’re still non-verbal, but much calmer. Is there a ‘bad day’ wardrobe somewhere that I missed?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, moving over to brush a hand through Dean’s hair and place a kiss on his brother’s forehead, before going to the old antique trunk that sat beneath the window. On memory days, when Dean knew that a typical day meant going to the dresser or closet (because of habit), he never made it to opening the trunk without a reminder. When the lid of the trunk squeaked open, Sam felt eyes on his back, and heard a shuffling on the bed. Turning to look, he saw that Dean had crawled closer and was quietly looking to see what Sam was up to.

There was an old pair of sweatpants inside that usually worked, but holding them up for Dean received another negative grunt. _No pants_ , he realized. Despite being tactile and needing touch, sometimes clothing was too constraining. Sam grabbed the next favorite — a layered skirt that was various shades of blue, that Dean had found at a yard sale down the road and demanded to buy. When Sam held it up, his brother made a happy sound and held his hands out. Sam let him have the skirt, and reached into the shirt side of the box. If it was a skirt day, he knew exactly what shirt to grab, and his hand was curling around purple fabric without hesitation. 

The shirt had been his when he was younger and was well-worn, at some point Dean had found it in the laundry basket and confiscated it. As he held up the purple shirt with a light purple greyhound dog on the front, he couldn’t help but smile at the pleased look on his brother’s face. Sam turned back to Cas. “You wanna help him dress? Sometimes I can convince him to wear underwear, but most of the time it’s a lost cause.”

Castiel nodded, finishing with putting away the last of Dean’s clothes that had been scattered on the floor. “Yeah, I’ll help. I’ll try to get him cleaned up in a shower as well.”

While Cas spoke, Sam felt Dean’s hand reaching out and curling into his own. He squeezed gently, reassuringly, to let Dean know that they were going to do their best to help him have a good day. “Don’t get his hair wet. There’s a bottle of Johnson’s Baby Wash that he prefers on these days. Also, once he’s got the shirt on, show him the cardigan sweaters in here, because he might want one of those. He favors the one with the multi-colored stripes.” Sam turned back to Dean, kneeling down so they were looking eye-to-eye. “I’m going to make some breakfast, okay? I’m sure you’re hungry. I love you and I will be right downstairs if you need me.”

Dean opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, and then looked a bit frustrated when he couldn’t get the words to work. He shook his head, squeezed Sam’s hand, and then leaned forward to kiss Sam’s cheek. It was New-Dean speak for ‘thanks, I love you too.’

With a gentle smile, Sam released Dean’s hand and stood, patting Castiel’s shoulder as he walked past. “Thanks, Cas.”

* * *

Despite Dean having a bad day, Kara had a routine doctor’s appointment scheduled that day, and since the pediatrician booked three months out… Sam didn’t want to reschedule. Sometimes, if he wasn’t able to get off work, Castiel would step in and take Kara to her appointments, but since Sam had already taken the day off, he shook off Castiel’s suggestion of help. When his friend wasn’t working with them as a nanny, he took on extra hours as a caregiver at a nursing home — a job that paid significantly better than what Sam was able to pay — so Sam liked to give Cas as much opportunity to work at the second job as possible. 

Thankfully, in his snuggly clothes and favorite cardigan, Dean was fairly pliant and okay with going anywhere Sam went. While they drove to the doctor, Dean sat in the backseat of Sam’s BMW X3 and cuddled up with Kara. Like her father, Kara had grown to know exactly how to handle her uncle’s bad days, and didn’t have any issues with curling up with him on occasion.

As expected, the arrival at the doctor’s office was a circus. Dean curled around Sam’s right arm as soon as he was out of the SUV, fingers tangling with Sam’s and eyes a bit unfocused. At the same time, Sam had to keep five-year-old Kara focused while in the parking lot, so he held on tight to her hand with his left and they slowly made their way towards the doctor’s office building. Once inside, Sam checked them in at the front desk, before walking over to the corner that housed a few kids books, so Kara could stay occupied while they waited. 

While they waited who-knew-how-long, Sam turned a bit in the hard chair, facing his brother as much as possible, so he could tell Dean a story and keep his brother as occupied as Kara was. Dean looked up from where their hands were joined, to meet his gaze with questioning green eyes.

“When I was ten, dad got the random idea to take us on a road trip to see the Grand Canyon. It was the middle of summer, hot as hell, and he decided that we _had_ to go.” A smile lit up Dean’s face, and he waited a moment before leaning forward and laying his head against Sam’s chest. A squeeze at Sam’s hand told him that his brother was listening, and wanted to hear more. With his free hand, he began brushing gently at Dean’s hair — making sure to avoid touching the scar that ran along one side of his skull — and continued to softly tell his story.

“Instead of sitting up front, where you usually did, you sat in the backseat with me. Dad gave you a weird look and told you not to cause trouble, but you just told him that you wanted to keep me company.” His brother made a soft mewling sound, and Sam bit back just the slightest hint of emotion. “We played every car game we could come up with, on the ride, and even made up a few of our own. Instead of punch-buggy, we’d play punch-Ford, or some other variation where we had more opportunities to see the cars… but we never hit hard enough or loud enough to alert dad.”

What hurt the most, thinking back to their childhood together, was realizing that he would never see that Dean again. Never the same exuberance or knowledge of classic rock songs; New-Dean got a headache when listening to anything more intense than classical music. He also could no longer name every Led Zeppelin album.

But he was alive.

“I don’t remember much of the actual canyon. I think we were only there for an hour or so — long enough to take pictures and move on — but I swear I remember the whole car ride like it was yesterday. That, and begging dad to let us stay in the motel about an hour from the canyon, that someone had decorated to look like the Flintstones village.” He chuckled, “Dad refused, but that night when we were in bed at a different cheap motel, we pulled the blanket over our heads and whispered about what the rooms probably looked like. Did they have real dinosaurs for sinks and stuff? Was there a car you could pedal with your feet?” Sam shook his head and a tear finally rolled down his face. “I remember falling asleep to you promising to one day take me to the Flintstones motel.”

He had set out to tell a happy childhood story, hoping to jog Dean’s memory back into place, but had succeeded in only making himself sad. Instead of continuing, he grew quiet, hand still softly brushing through Dean’s hair as they sat in the waiting room for the next few minutes, cuddling together and watching patients come and go, while they waited on the doctor.

* * *

On the drive home, Dean sat up front next to Sam, and Sam held onto his hand as they drove to the school and dropped Kara off so that she could finish the second half of the day. Castiel was scheduled to pick her up when the day was done, so once they were home and walking back into the house, Sam looked over at his brother.

“How about a nap, De? You’ve had a long day.”

He wasn’t expecting his brother to answer, but he also wasn’t expecting the older man to go completely slack in his arms.

“ _Shit,_ ” he cursed, grabbing under Dean’s arms to keep him from falling to the floor, as his brother began to shake. _Of course._ He should have been expecting what was happening — bad days always seemed to get worse before they got better.

In the foyer, Sam slowly eased Dean onto the floor as the seizure took over his body. They didn’t happen often — it was the first in three months — but it was just another fun side effect of Dean’s condition. Sam kept an eye on his watch, as he tried to protect Dean from hurting himself, monitoring how long the seizure lasted to know the severity of it. Just before the two minute mark, Dean’s body began to relax against him. Another minute and his eyes were opening, blinking wearily up at Sam.

“Wh’s’t?” Dean mumbled, voice rough from disuse and after-effects of the seizure. 

“Seizure. It’s been a bad day.” His brother frowned at the words, looking like he was trying hard to put them into place and understand them. Sam shifted, carefully standing and helping Dean up as well. “We gotta get you to bed before you pass out.” Phase two of the seizures was always an extreme lethargy that kicked in and had Dean in bed for at least 12 hours. They moved up the stairs, going slowly step by step together. Once they reached the top landing, Sam directed them down the hall to Dean’s bedroom. He set his brother on the edge of the bed and slowly helped him out of the cardigan, purple dog shirt, and blue skirt. 

He wasn’t surprised to see that Cas hadn’t managed to get the underwear accepted. Sam helped a naked Dean stand, and they shuffled into the bathroom. “Come on, De — need to make sure you piss before you pass out.” It was one of his least favorite activities, holding his brother’s dick while he peed, but the alternative was the degrading task of putting Dean in an adult diaper, which neither of them enjoyed.

Once all bodily fluids were taken care of and hands were carefully washed, they went back into the room and Sam helped Dean into bed.

He had just finished tucking the blankets around his brother, when the older man made a pained whimper. “What is it?” Sam asked, moving up so he could see Dean’s face. When he caught the puppy dog eyes and pouty lips, Sam sighed. _Of course._

With a smile and a shake of his head, he put his phone on the bedside table and stripped down to his boxers. Once he was mostly naked, he crawled into bed next to Dean and chuckled when Dean immediately curled around him like an octopus. 

“You’re such a cuddle addict,” Sam mused.

The only response he received was a soft snore.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam woke to the soft whispering of his name and a hand shaking his shoulder. Blinking, he looked up into Castiel’s concerned face. He turned back to make sure Dean was still sleeping, before motioning to the hallway and slowly sliding out of the bed. Cas seemed to get the message and waited for him in the light of the hall, as Sam pulled his clothes back on before following.

He pulled the bedroom door mostly closed behind him, so that their voices wouldn’t wake his brother. “What time is it?” he asked, feeling groggy after the nap.

“Quarter to ten. I wanted to come back and check how things were going, after this morning.” Cas held out a bottle of water, which Sam gratefully accepted. “Any improvements?”

Sam drank down half of the bottle, before answering, “He had a seizure when we got home. ‘Bout two minutes.”

Castiel frowned. “Probably should have been expecting that after this morning.”

“Yeah. But I got him up to bed okay, and he pouted at me until I laid down with him.” Sam ran a tired hand through his hair — which was getting a little too long, thanks to how busy he had been recently — and sighed. “Probably better to keep someone with him, in case of a second seizure.”

“I’ll take over,” Cas answered, laying a calm hand on Sam’s arm. “It’s late… we already had dinner and Kara just finished her bath and went to bed. I left you some spaghetti in the microwave.”

“You really don’t have to—” Even in the darkness of the room, Sam could see the ‘just shut up’ look on Castiel’s face. In the four years that Cas had been working there off and on, he and Sam had fought numerous times over where the boundary laid between Kara’s nanny and Dean’s caregiver. The way Sam saw it, he really should be paying Castiel more, if the man was going to keep stepping up as Dean’s caregiver; unfortunately he just didn’t have the means to at that point.

In Castiel’s eyes, though, his role included both parts of the equation, and he enjoyed helping out with Dean, as much as he enjoyed keeping Kara busy.

* * *

As the rest of the week passed, Dean slowly eased back into himself. There were still words that he struggled to find — an issue that would probably linger for another few weeks, thanks to the seizure — but two days later Sam walked into a weird smelling house and knew that if Dean was cooking, they were on the right track.

When he stepped into the kitchen, he paused at the sight before him. There was a kitchen chair pulled up against the counter next to the stove, and Kara stood atop the chair, carefully working to pop some kind of soap or candle from a plastic mold, as Dean stood beside her, mixing something in a saucepan before moving to pour whatever it was into an empty mold on the opposite side of the stove (where Kara wasn’t standing). While Sam watched, the door between the garage and the kitchen swung open and Cas stepped in, carrying a basket of folded laundry. 

“Aw man!” Cas called, “I told you not to make stinky cheese soap!” His comment caused a fit of giggles from Kara and Dean, and Sam bit back his own laugh as well.

He turned back to the foyer, dropping his bag, coat, and shoes on a spot there, before heading upstairs to quickly change out of his suit. When he was comfortable in lounge pants and a t-shirt, he walked back down and finally stepped into the kitchen. “I hope the cheese soap is only for Cas to bathe in. Anything is an improvement on his current state.”

“I heard that!” Cas called from somewhere else in the house.

Sam smiled, stepping up behind Kara and leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Hello sweetheart. Are you having fun with uncle De?”

“We’re making soaps!”

“I see that.” He turned his head to see Dean leaning over a bit, his cheek out, and realized that Dean wanted a kiss on the cheek just like Kara had received. He chuckled, doing just that before moving back to Kara. “How are we gonna eat dinner with all this? Are we eating soap?”

Kara quickly shook her head. “Nah, daddy, Dean made casserole. Tata-two-ee.”

“Ratatouille,” Dean corrected.

“Yeah, that.” She smiled up at Sam. “I helped pick vegetables from the garden.”

“Did they scream when you picked them?” Sam asked, tickling her side.

“No! Don’t be silly, papa.”

“Fine! I can see when I’m not needed. You help Dean with his soap, I’m gonna go make sure Cas doesn’t need anything.”

* * *

The night seemed to go relatively well, considering the past few weeks. They ate dinner on the back porch and Dean helped put Kara to bed by reading her a story. Once she was done, Castiel bid them farewell since he had an overnight shift at the nursing home. Sam sometimes had trouble deciding when his friend slept. 

Once it was just him and Dean, they sat down in the family room to watch television — well, Sam watched, Dean was too busy working out how to knit with the yarn that he had apparently had Cas buy for him. Around eleven, he caught his brother yawning for the fourth time and declared it time for bed. He helped Dean upstairs, before stopping outside of his brother’s room and asking if the older man needed any help. Dean shook his head, kissing Sam’s cheek before going into his room alone.

Sam settled into his own bed but had a hard time getting to sleep. It was like something was itching at the back of his brain, keeping him awake. An hour later, he heard a shout from the room across the hall and started to understand why he hadn’t been able to sleep. He was up and out of bed in a flash, hurrying across the hall to Dean’s bedroom and slipping inside before he could wake Kara. 

The light next to Dean’s bed was turned on, and Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. Sam moved over, kneeling down and placing a hand on his brother’s bare shoulder. “De? You okay?”

Dean took a shuddery breath and whispered, “Bad dream.” 

“Okay. I’m going to get you a cup of water, okay? Then I’ll lay with you.” Sam brushed a gentle hand through his brother’s hair, before standing. He moved quickly into the connected bathroom and filled a small glass with cold water, before going back into the bedroom and sitting down next to Dean. He pulled his brother’s hand into his own, gently pushing it to wrap around the cup. “Here you go.”

His arm was a little shaky, but Dean managed to get the cup to his mouth and quickly drank down the water. Once he had, Sam took the cup back and sat it on the bedside table. “Why don’t you lay down, huh? I’ll stay in here with you tonight.”

“‘Kay,” Dean breathed. He turned, moving his legs back under the blanket and sliding to the middle of the mattress. Sam waited until he was settled, before he stood and pushed down his sleep pants so they were laying on the floor. Every time he tried to get into bed with his brother while still clothed, Dean would whine and whimper until eventually Sam gave in and got naked anyways — it was easier, less time consuming, to just get naked from the get-go.

Once he had climbed into bed in the space that Dean had left for him, he felt Dean moving to curl against his side, one leg hooking over Sam’s, and his arm wrapped around Sam’s waist. “Goodnight, Dean,” Sam whispered, reaching out to turn the light off. His brother mumbled a muffled reply of his own that sounded a bit like goodnight, and Sam felt himself starting to relax.

* * *

A few hours later, Sam woke up to an odd sensation that he couldn’t quite understand. He blinked his eyes in the darkness, doing a quick once over of his body to try and figure out what had woke him up.

Then he _felt it._ He reached over, switching on the light again and pushing the covers back so that he could see his own body. Except, of course, the lower half of his body was blocked by his brother, who was resting his head gently on Sam’s lower abdomen. Which wasn’t, quite frankly, that odd, but it didn’t explain the warm and gentle suction he could feel wrapped around his soft cock.

With a little effort, he raised up onto his elbows and looked over his brother’s head to confirm that… _yep_ , Dean had fallen asleep with his mouth wrapped around Sam’s cock. The blissful expression on Dean’s face, reminded Sam a lot of how Kara looked when she was a newborn and would fall asleep with her pacifier in her mouth. People called those things ‘soothers’ for a reason.

He waited a moment, contemplating whether or not he should wake his brother. On the one hand, it really wasn’t a good idea to let Dean think it was okay to do what he was doing (because it wasn’t, right?), but on the other hand… what did it hurt? He was obviously sleeping better because of what he was doing, and the poor guy struggled so much with getting a good night’s sleep…

Resigning himself to his decision, Sam reached over to turn out the light, and laid a gentle hand on his brother’s back as he closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

* * *

The following night, and the subsequent three nights after, Sam moved Dean into the master bedroom. There wasn’t much of a difference between the two rooms, of course, but Sam’s alarm clock and phone charger were in his room, and he couldn’t be bothered to move them. Plus, okay, maybe he preferred his mattress and sheets.

The fact was, Dean began sleeping in his bed fulltime, because it seemed to reduce the nightmares and help his brother’s condition during the day. He was more active, more talkative, and had even gone to visit an old friend for a couple hours while Sam was at work the day before. It was like a part of old-Dean was peeking through, and Sam could appreciate the fact that obviously having someone in bed with him at night was helping that.

And if, by chance, Sam woke up every morning with Dean’s mouth back on his cock, what was the big deal? Sam forced himself to not make any of it a _sexual_ thing. He didn’t get hard from what Dean was doing — he probably could, if he allowed himself, but he fought off the feeling as much as possible. He didn’t want to take advantage of his brother’s needs; the thought alone made him feel dirty. So he kept his erections to himself and tried not to think of his brother’s warm mouth when he did take care of his desires.

Saturday morning, Sam allowed himself to sleep in, since it was his day off and Castiel would be awake for Kara. It was a little after nine, when he felt the sheets being pulled from his body, and a sharp pinch to his upper arm. He blinked away the last of sleep, and looked up at the looming figure of his friend and nanny. Castiel looked pissed, his arms crossed in front of his body as his eyes held Sam’s gaze for a moment, before pointedly moving down to where Dean was still sleeping with Sam’s cock in his mouth.

_Shit._

He wasn’t necessarily _ashamed_ of being caught; he more so didn’t want to explain his thought process to another sound human.

Castiel gave him a look that clearly said ‘this isn’t over’, before moving back out of the bedroom. He had probably come in in the first place because he was worried when Dean’s bedroom was empty.

Sam waited until he heard the door shut, before he gently moved out from under Dean like he did every other morning. Once he knew he could get up without waking his brother, he moved to the bathroom and hurriedly got ready, before heading out of the room and downstairs. Castiel was in the kitchen, putting the final touches on a plate of pancakes. 

“Where’s Kara?”

Cas motioned towards the door leading out to the backyard. “Playing out back with the neighbor kids. Their mom had to run to the store and they asked if they could stay here instead of going with her. You know how kids get when a Costco trip is threatened.”

“Oh.” Sam moved to the coffee maker to pour himself a cup and frowned. “I should probably make a Costco run, now that I think of it.”

A plate slammed against the counter, causing Sam to jump and turn back to Cas. His friend was hunched over the counter and seemed to be _seething_ , judging by the rise and fall of his back. “You’re taking _advantage_ of him,” Castiel growled, “for some sick pleasure, aren’t you?”

Sam set his cup down and shook his head. “No! If this is what he needs—”

“He doesn’t understand that it’s wrong! You think he hasn’t tried it with me? All those times I slept in there with him? Sometimes he’ll get it if I explain, but other times I just have to tell him no.” Cas finally stood and turned the full force of his glare on Sam. “Just like his own _brother_ should have!”

“What is it hurting, though? I haven’t seen him sleep this good in _years._ So what’s the problem? The fact that society says it’s wrong?”

“The fact that he isn’t consenting! Doesn’t know that he _should_ consent.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m not forcing my dick in his mouth, Cas. If he didn’t want it, he wouldn’t do it. And I’m not taking pleasure from it, either. It’s just something that he needs, that I can provide.”

“There has to be a better option. I’ve thought about it before… they make adult versions of those baby pacifiers, you know?”

He could already see his brother’s reaction to that particular suggestion. “He isn’t a fucking baby — that’s exactly what he would say if you even suggested something like that. He’s a grown man, who is probably falling back on some past memory of something that he _enjoyed_ and found comforting.”

“I thought old-Dean was straight?”

“Old-Dean was a _lot_ of things. I never tried forcing him into a box.”

“Fine.” Castiel huffed and picked his plate back up. “ _Fine._ But if this because some outlet for you to work out your repressed sex drive, I’m stepping in and putting a stop to it.” 

Picking his coffee cup back up, Sam followed Cas over to the table and sat down with a frown on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a repressed anything!”

“Sam, I’ve been this family’s nanny for _four years_ , and never once in that time have I gotten invited to help out so that you can go on a date or have a ‘friend’ over. So, the way I see it, unless you’re getting your jollies off with an assistant down at your firm… you’ve been pretty celibate since Dean moved in.”

He thought for a moment, trying to do the math in his head and figure out exactly when the last time that he had sex was. “Aha! Three years ago, I had to go on a business trip to Columbus.”

“Look at you. Three years instead of four… that is much better.”

His face dropped into a pout. “Nothing is _repressed._ I don’t have time for that bullshit. Especially not when I can take care of my own issues in a matter of minutes—”

Castiel pointed his syrupy fork across the table. “You’re going out tonight.”

“What? No!”

“Yes. I’ll watch Kara and Dean, and you’re going out, drinking, and getting laid.”

“Cas—”

“If you don’t agree, I’ll be forced to call my cousin that has a thing for you.”

“Fuck! No. Not Hannah. God… she gives me the creeps when she stares at me.”

“You could call that Claire chick at your office…”

“She’s like _nineteen._ ”

“What about—”

* * *

That night after dinner, Sam moved up to his bedroom and began going through his closet, trying to find something appropriate for a night _out._ He was going over the pros and cons of wearing a button-down rather than a t-shirt, when the door opened and Dean walked in.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed so he could see where Sam was standing just inside the large closet.

“Trying to decide what to wear.” He picked two of his favorite button-downs and turned to his brother. “Which one?” Dean pointed at the one on the left, a gray and white pinstripe shirt. Sam put the blue one back in the closet. “Castiel wants me to go out for a night by myself. See if I can meet someone to… _date._ ” Sam pulled his t-shirt off and began putting on the gray shirt Dean had picked. “He says I need to get back in the game.”

“But—” Sam turned back around, seeing a confused, slightly sad look on his brother’s face. Dean waited a moment, before perking up a bit. “Can I come?”

 _Shit._ He should have anticipated that very problem. Old-Dean loved going out. “You know you aren’t supposed to drink on your meds.”

“I don’t want to drink.”

“And crowds aren’t usually your favorite thing, either. I was going to go to this club downtown that—”

Dean suddenly looked very angry. “You can just say _no_ , you know?” He stood, stomping towards the door. “I’m not a fucking child, Sam.”

Before Sam could comment, the door was slamming closed behind Dean, followed by another slam across the hall that signaled Dean had shut himself in his room. _Fuck._ It had been a while since there had been an angry outburst — they always shook Sam up, because they were unpredictable.

He tried not to think about it as he finished getting ready and went downstairs. He explained the outburst to Cas, as he kissed Kara goodbye and promised to be back later. He really did not want to go and deal with the ‘dating pool’, but maybe Castiel was right — maybe he was spending too much time focusing on his family, and not enough time worrying about his own needs.

What could one night really hurt?

* * *

`**Castiel:** You need to come home. Now. Not an emergency but close to it.`

`**Sam:** On my way now. Eta 15.`

He apologized to the dark haired guy he had been chatting with for the past half hour, paid his tab, pocketed cute guy’s phone number, and hurried out of the club. Since he had learned to always anticipate an emergency calling him home, Sam had limited himself to two beers, before switching to soda so that he’d be okay to drive. He tried not to speed as he drove home, going over in his mind what might be wrong enough that Cas was forced to text him.

When he got to the house, he opened the door to the sound of loud angry shouting and things being thrown and subsequently broken in the kitchen. He spotted Kara sitting on the stairs, tears in her eyes and hands covering her ears to drown out the sound of Dean’s shouting. _Fuck._ He moved to his daughter first, kneeling down before her and pulling a hand away as he gained her attention. “Daddy’s here.” She burst forward into his arms, and he easily picked her up, before walking slowly to the edge of the kitchen. Cas stood there, not interfering with Dean’s rage, but also monitoring to make sure Dean didn’t hurt himself — it was a process they had both learned early on. 

“Hey,” Sam whispered. He moved Kara into Castiel’s arms. “I’ve got this… can you get her to bed?” Castiel nodded, quickly carrying the girl back to the stairs. 

Sam focused his attention on his brother… who was naked and grabbing plastic plates from the cupboard before throwing them at the floor. Sam had, thankfully, gotten smart after the first outburst a few years back and changed over to plasticware for most of his kitchen. There were still a few glass baking dishes, but considering Dean was the one that loved baking the most… that was probably why he was avoiding that cupboard. 

“Dean?” His brother let out another angry scream in response, and turned to chuck another plate. It was at that point that Sam noticed the tears on Dean’s face. Anger and sadness? Something had definitely sparked a serious reaction in his brother. He stepped forward, avoiding the mess as best he could, until he was directly next to Dean. The next time Dean turned to throw a plate, Sam grabbed his wrist and pulled his brother’s body into a tight hug. “Shhh. It’s okay. Deep breathes.”

“‘Sma shirt,” Dean managed between sobs. “Mine! Mine!”

“What?” Sam didn’t understand, and without Cas there to say what had triggered the episode, he guessed he would remain in the dark. “Did you lose something?”

His brother hiccuped, hands clenched tight in Sam’s shirt. “Don’t go out, Sammy. Please don’t go out.”

“I’m right here, Dean. Why don’t we go upstairs, huh? I’ll start you a bath.” Dean continued to whisper ‘don’t go’, but allowed Sam to gently usher him up the stairs and into the master bathroom. When Sam tried to get him to sit and wait while the bath filled, though, Dean refused to do anything but cling to Sam. Good thing he had chosen to buy a house with a large bathtub… because he had a feeling Dean wasn’t going to let him go long enough to sit in the water by himself and relax.

“Hey.”

Sam had just finished stripping out of his clothes and was climbing into the water, when Castiel caught his attention from the doorway. Sam helped Dean ease into the tub against him, before focusing on Cas. “What happened?” he asked, hands gently rubbing the warm water along Dean’s skin.

Cas sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and watched them for a moment. Sam couldn’t see the tension releasing from Dean’s face, but he could feel it happening to his body.

“Kara wanted ice cream, so I went upstairs to ask Dean if he wanted some. I found him trying to…” Cas frowned, “He was trying rather unsuccessfully to masturbate, but couldn’t get a reaction from his body, which was making him angry. He was mumbling a lot of crazy stuff to himself, I only got bits and pieces. Stuff about you leaving him if he wasn’t good enough.”

“Fuck.” Sam brought a hand up to wipe through Dean’s hair, and kissed his brother’s forehead. “Shouldn’t have gone out—”

“I don’t think either of us expected this reaction. He seems to be getting very codependent with you, and the thought of you going out with someone else, made him think that there were things you needed that he couldn’t give you.”

 _Sex,_ Sam realized. Which is why Dean had tried masturbating — an activity that he hadn’t shown any real interest in, as far as Sam knew, since his accident. Sam felt his heart hurting. “I don’t know what to do. If I pull away, it’ll hurt him more… but if I let it keep going like this, will it be worse in the long run?”


	3. Chapter 3

Sam had trouble sleeping that night, his mind racing with thoughts of how to handle Dean’s current situation. He thought about maybe getting Dean back into see a therapist, but the last time he had attempted that, his brother had gone catatonic… he _did not_ like talking to people about his problems, or feeling forced into talking. They’d have to find someone to literally befriend Dean outside of a therapy session, and make it seem like they were just ‘hanging out’ when the actual session was happening — which felt way too forced and completely limited Dean’s ability to consent to wanting therapy. 

So if they didn’t go that route, if Sam let things continue the way they had been going…

It made him feel dirty. Like somehow he’d stepped over an invisible line in the sand and was suddenly taking advantage of his brother’s affections. _Fuck._

He missed old-Dean. Life was far less complicated back then. He was lucky to have his brother alive, yes, and he would never forget that good fortune, but it presented so many issues that he felt unprepared for.

“Sammy.”

He woke the next morning to his brother’s voice near his face in bed. He blinked for a moment, catching Dean’s bright green eyes, before turning his head and looking at the clock. He’d only been asleep for three hours… Sam looked back at his brother, head still resting on his pillow. “Yeah, De?”

“I uh… I need help… with something.” Dean was also still laying down, but he looked a bit nervous about whatever it was he was asking.

“Can it wait until after breakfast?” Sam asked. “I could use some more sleep…”

“It’s something we should do before Kay is awake.”

Which was, quite honestly, a shocking enough statement to pique his interest. If Dean was aware enough that whatever problem he had could potentially impact Kara negatively, then it was probably important. Sam raised up a bit, head resting on his hand with his elbow bent so that he could look down at his brother. “Must be important.”

“Yeah.” Dean swallowed, before looking around the room for a moment, like he was making sure they were alone, even though it was five in the morning and the rest of the house was _definitely_ still sleeping. “I um… it’s about last night. Kinda.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Dean. I shouldn’t have just sprung the whole ‘me going out’ thing on you last minute. I should have known that such a drastic change would upset you.” He didn’t, of course, mention the fact that Dean thought Sam was looking for sex and that Dean’s performance issues caused Sam to do such a thing.

Because it was completely, totally, absolutely, _not_ relevant.

“It’s not that. Well it is. But it isn’t.” Dean sat up, scooting back against the headboard and focusing on his hands laying in his lap. He didn’t continue speaking right away, but Sam knew from experience that sometimes it was best to let his brain work through whatever was going on, and continue on his own time. Finally, after a couple minutes of silence, Dean looked down at Sam. “Did Cas tell you how I tried... “ he frowned, face scrunching up as he looked away again. “I don’t remember the word.”

Sam could imagine that the current string of conversation was going to be as awkward as having the ‘talk’ with his daughter when she hit puberty… _fuck._

“Masturbate.”

“Yes.” Dean nodded, looking back to his hands. “It didn’t work. But now my um…” he frowned. “It hurts down there.” Dean glanced at Sam, before shoving the blankets off of his lap. As per usual, he had gone to bed naked, so the removal of the blanket left him completely bare. “Is it okay?” Dean asked, voice sounding small as he wiggled his hips down in the bed a bit, exposing his soft cock and balls more.

Sam took a deep breath and sat up, trying to put on a ‘caregiver’ front, after all the previous drama from the night before. He’d seen Dean’s dick plenty of times — had even held it to help his brother pee on more times than he could count — so it shouldn’t really be that big of an issue. 

Except a nagging voice in the back of his head _made_ it an issue.

He leaned forward over his brother a bit and reached out to gently lift Dean’s soft dick. “I think you weren’t able to masturbate last night because you haven’t shown any real sexual desire since the accident,” he explained. He caught sight of the way Dean’s balls seemed to be swollen and frowned. “Huh.” He cupped them gently with his right hand, and when Dean wiggled in discomfort, he realized the problem. He pulled his hands back. “It looks like your attempts made your body _think_ that it would be ejaculating, and when you didn’t, it all kind of got stuck in your balls. So they’re swollen and looking for relief, but your cock doesn’t want to join the party, and that’s why it hurts.”

Dean let out a soft whimpering sound as he met Sam’s gaze once more. “Fix it, Sammy.”

“I can call Monday and schedule you a doctor’s appointment—” Dean let out another whine and Sam sighed. “Unless you want to go today to the ER…”

“Why…” Dean shook his head and sat up, wiggling a bit to find a comfortable spot. “Why do we gotta go to a doctor? Why can’t you fix it? I don’t wanna go to a doctor, Sam.”

He never wanted to go the doctor, Sam mused to himself. He took a deep breath. “It really would be inappropriate for me to—” Dean was giving him super sad eyes at that point. _Fuck._ “Why don’t I ask Cas?”

“No.” Dean’s face looked a little broken. “Is it… is it because you don’t like me anymore?”

“Of course not, Dean! I love you. But I don’t want to take advantage of you…” He bit at his bottom lip, trying to come up with an appropriate explanation. “Some people would say that things like this, and letting you do that thing you do with my—” He motioned towards his own dick, “while you’re sleeping. Things like that are inappropriate because you can’t give proper consent.”

His brother rolled his eyes, like the very thought was exasperating him. “I consent. I’m consenting now. I’m asking _you_ to help me. I’m not stupid, Sam.” He pouted a bit, “You don’t think I’m stupid, right?”

Sam quickly shook his head and reached out to brush his fingers through the back of Dean’s hair. “Never, De. You’re one of the smartest guys I know.”

“Then I _consent._ ” The pout was in full force at that point, along with puppy eyes. “Please? Can you help me?”

 _You’re going to hell, Sam Winchester,_ he thought to himself. “Fine, but on one condition.” When Dean nodded, Sam continued, “Cas has to be in the room. Having a _witness_ will confirm all parties are consenting.”

* * *

Castiel was _not_ happy to be woken up at six in the morning on a Sunday — his only day off — but when Sam explained the very peculiar situation, he begrudgingly offered to be there. 

They only had a couple hours before Kara woke up, so they made their way back to the main house and up to the master bedroom, where Dean was waiting patiently on the bed. Sam had explained what he would have to do, in order to help Dean out of his current situation, and his brother had shrugged like the idea of having someone’s finger up his ass was really no big deal at all.

Sam could feel his sanity being tested.

Once they were all three locked in the bedroom, Sam went to his underwear drawer and searched under everything to find the bottle of lube he kept stashed there. Fuck, it really had been a while since he got laid… he tilted the bottle, looking for an expiration date. When had he bought the stuff? He usually jacked off in the shower, so that little Miss couldn’t walk in on him, which meant using a soap slippery hand to make things easier…

“ _Sam,_ ” Cas spoke, bringing his attention back to the bed, where Cas was sitting against the headboard, with Dean on his hands and knees in front of him, allowing Dean’s head to rest on his shoulder if need be. “You’re staring at that bottle of lube like it’s going to bite you… do I need to find my stash?”

“No, I uh…” He quickly shook his head. “No.” He moved towards the bed, placing his knees on the mattress and settling into the space between Dean’s legs. Presented with Dean’s bare ass before him… he was glad that he’d thought to put boxer-briefs and sweatpants on before going to wake Cas. He knew there was no way he was going to survive the experience without his cock reacting… he just wasn’t that much of a saint.

“Okay, Dean,” Sam mumbled, opening the bottle of lube and coating his fingers — he made sure to warm it as much as possible, not wanting to scare his brother with a suddenly wet and cold feeling. “Castiel is there to make sure he can see your face and see if you aren’t comfortable, okay? If at any time you want me to stop, you tell him right away.”

“I know,” Dean grumbled, head against Cas’ shoulder. “He already told me.”

“Good. I’m going to go as slow as possible, alright?” He waited for Dean to whisper something about Sam being a ‘slow poke’, before he moved his right forefinger to slowly circle around Dean’s hole. He made sure to ease his brother into the touch, before he tried gently pressing inside and… _fuck_... did Dean really have to moan like that?

As promised, he took his time with every step of the way, so it was actually a few minutes later when he finally got to the point of gently rubbing two fingertips against Dean’s prostate. If he had thought his brother was moaning before… it was nothing compared to the sounds he was making at that point. _Fuck._ Sam closed his eyes, trying to force back his own body’s reaction to the noises and the situation. It wasn’t helping at all, of course, and his own cock was straining desperately against the front of his underwear.

He took a deep shuddering breath and finally opened his eyes… only to meet a piercing blue gaze staring right back at him. _Shit._ He knew that Cas knew he wasn’t handling the situation well. He moved his fingers a bit faster, hoping to speed up the process now that Dean had adjusted to his touch.

“Oh fuck!” Dean cried out, hands clenching tightly along Castiel’s shoulders. “Fuck. Oh fuck it’s…” His body began to shudder and Sam couldn’t stop himself from leaning back so that he could watch in amazement as Dean’s soft dick began to squirt out an impressive amount of come.

Sam continued his ministrations, until finally he heard Dean began to softly chant ‘stop’ against Cas’ shoulder — obviously overwhelmed by the sensitivity of his body. Sam pulled away, hand dropping from Dean’s body as he took a deep breath… before quickly climbing off the bed and going towards the bathroom. “Gonna grab a washcloth,” he mumbled, in explanation.

He washed his hands in the bathroom sink, before grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in warm water — all the while completely avoiding acknowledgement of his straining cock.

When he stepped back out into the bedroom, he frowned at the fact that Dean was gone, and Cas was now sitting by himself on the edge of the bed. 

“Where did he go?”

“He said something about showering and making gluten-free pancakes.” Castiel waited a moment, eyes glued to the closed bedroom door, before he licked his lips and stood, surging across the room and forcing Sam backwards into the bathroom. Before Sam could ask what was going on, Cas had shut and locked the door… and spun Sam around so that he was shoved back against it.

 _He’s going to hit me,_ Sam thought. _He knows I get turned on by my brother and he’s going to kick my ass…_

He had one more long moment to contemplate that very thought… before Cas was plastering himself along Sam’s body and capturing Sam’s lips in a rough kiss.

_Oh holy fuck._

Judging by the impressive erection pressing up against Sam’s thigh… Sam wasn’t the only one turned on by what had just happened.

He got with the program, realizing that he was being kissed and he didn’t really mind; but maybe Cas would appreciate him kissing back. Okay yep… that moan definitely meant that Cas was happy with that action.

“Such a fucking perv,” Cas whispered, lips moving down to Sam’s neck, as his hand rubbed against the outline of Sam’s cock. “Would you have fucked him? Little bit more, Sam, and he could have taken your cock.”

“Fuck,” he gasped, hips moving forward against Castiel’s hand. “He probably would have sucked you off while I did, if you had asked.” Sam moved his own hand down, shoving it beneath the waistband of Castiel’s sleep pants and wrapping around his bare cock. “You know how he likes to put a dick in his mouth…”

Cas sucked hard at a spot on Sam’s neck — probably in an effort to leave a mark — and shoved Sam’s pants and underwear down around his ankles. A blink later and both of their naked cocks were aligned, slip-sliding against each other thanks to the copious amounts of pre-come that Cas had apparently been leaking.

“We’re going to hell, Sam,” Castiel groaned. “We’re perverts and we’re going to hell.”

He had no argument to that statement, so he leaned his head back against the door and wrapped his hand around both of their cocks… jerking fast and rough as the end rushed way too quickly towards him.

* * *

Sam took Dean and Kara to the zoo that day… which had absolutely nothing to do with avoiding Cas. It was, after all, Castiel’s day off; so it seemed proper to get away and let him have some time to himself.

That evening at dinner, despite a lot of staring, they didn’t say more than ‘pass the butter, please’ to each other. Sam’s head felt like it was about to explode thanks to the onslaught of the ‘Castiel mess’ on top of everything else he’d already been dealing with. All he kept thinking about was how upset his brother would be if he found out. Not, of course, because of any consent issues… but more so because he wouldn’t like the idea of Sam and Cas being a thing.

Sam had never really contemplated the idea of being _with_ Castiel. He could, of course, admit that he’d always found the other man attractive, but it was a documented fact that he was too busy for everything related to dating and finding acceptable partners.

Which is how a _very_ acceptable partner lived under his roof for three years without anything happening. He couldn’t help but wonder if Cas had been thinking about _him_ in that way. Cas had less to worry about, so maybe it had sat on the edge of his thoughts, torturing him. 

He caught a glimmer of _something_ in Castiel’s eyes over the dinner table, and was suddenly struck with the image of Cas masturbating while thinking about him…

A hand laid on his arm, causing him to jump out of his skin, and then immediately feel bad because it was just his _daughter_ asking if he’d look over her homework before she took her bath.

He was so fucking screwed.

* * *

The next week went by distressingly slow. Sam pretended everything was normal as he went through the routine of working, helping Kara with her homework, and navigating Dean’s moods. And _maybe_ avoiding Cas.

Friday night, he was so wound up from the week that he took a glass of whiskey into the bathroom and ran a warm bath in the large tub. He just wanted to relax, damn it!

He had just settled down into the warm water, when there was a soft knock on the door. Before he could even ask who it was, the door was open and Dean was stepping into the bathroom. “Hey,” Dean whispered, looking a bit shy. “Everyone else is asleep… can I hang out in here?”

Sam smiled at the shyness. He wanted a break, yeah, but he couldn’t deny his best friend. “Sure. You wanna just sit nearby, or should I make space in the tub?”

His brother bit at his bottom lip for a moment, before ducking his head. “Can I sit in the tub?”

 _Bad idea, Sam._ “Of course.” Sam wiggled a bit, working his large form so that he was sitting cross legged in one half of the tub, leaving room for Dean on the other side. He convinced himself not to watch as Dean stripped down before moving over to the edge. On instinct, Sam held his hand out, letting Dean grab onto him as he carefully stepped into the warm water.

Instead of sitting identical to Sam’s position, Dean leaned back against the opposite side of the tub and spread his legs out on each side… leaving his calves draped over Sam’s knees. “‘S nice.”

“It is.” Sam wiggled a bit, before stretching his legs back out, putting them under Dean’s, stretched out on either side of the tub walls, leaving his feet somewhere on the sides of Dean’s ass. Leaning back, he let his head rest on the small pillow and closed his eyes. He reached out blindly for the spot where he’d put his whiskey glass, brought it to his lips, and finished off the last bit of amber liquid. _Perfect._

After he’d put the glass back down, there was a brief moment of quiet, before he felt the water starting to move in soft waves. His eyes opened and he watched in shock as his brother slid forward in the tub, legs moving to either side of Sam’s hips until suddenly, Dean was straddling Sam’s lap. _Fuck!_ He felt his cock begin to react and tried to figure out at which point he thought it was a good idea to let Dean into the tub with him… had the whiskey really clouded his mind that quickly? 

Ha. Ha. Yeah, right.

 _Idiot._ His hands moved to Dean’s waist on their own accord. His brother’s face was so close… “What are you doing, Dean?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Dean held his gaze for a very long moment, before leaning forward and laying his head on Sam’s shoulder, face turned towards Sam’s neck so that every breath felt like a teasing tickle traveling straight to his cock. 

Sam was a fool.

A fucking fool who just happened to be in love with his brother.

He wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and pulled him closer, closing his eyes again when the steady ba-thump of Dean’s heart began to relax him.

_Stupid. Fucking. Fool._

* * *

Once out of the tub, Sam helped a lethargic Dean to get dried off and snuggled into bed, then waited patiently to make sure Dean was fully asleep, before slipping on a robe and slippers and heading downstairs. He stepped out of the kitchen door that led directly to the garage, before turning right and heading up the stairs to Castiel’s apartment. The door to the apartment was open, so he quietly moved in, before going to the bedroom door and knocking lightly.

There wasn’t, of course, an immediate response — a sign that Cas was indeed asleep. Sam turned the door handle and peeked his head ever-so-slightly into the dark room. “ _Cas?_ ”

He had to repeat himself twice, before the form on the bed finally rolled over and clicked on a small lamp. Castiel looked equal parts confused and sexy, as he lifted a pair of glasses up to his face. “Sam?”

He really needed to convince Cas to ditch the contacts more often. “Yeah.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” He shook his head, suddenly feeling a bit stupid for being there. “I uh…” What was he thinking? He’d spent all week avoiding Castiel and now he was in his apartment like it was _normal_ to just invade the poor dude’s space… “Fuck. This was a stupid idea. I’m sorry for waking you.”

He was just about to turn and leave, when Cas said, “Sam,” and then reached into the bedside table to pull out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms.

Sam stared at the items in the muted light, waited another moment, before dropping his robe, kicking off his slippers, and moving across the room to the bed. Castiel pushed the blankets back, and instead of laying down in the space next to Cas, Sam straddled the other man’s lap in a move that closely mirrored how his brother had been just an hour before… He waited for Cas to carefully tuck his glasses away again, before he leaned down to kiss him roughly. 

When the kiss broke, he let out a deep sigh. “Fuck me? Please?”

* * *

Sam Winchester needed a fucking vacation. Between his brother clinging to him every waking moment, and every quiet moment being spent sneaking away to spend time with Cas… he felt like he was going absolutely insane. It got to the point that spending time at work was actually a _blessing._ And when Kara’s class needed a chaperone for a field trip? Hell yeah he signed up!

He thought about maybe trying to find someone to talk to about his situation… but who could he tell that wouldn’t judge the fuck out of him? Perving on his disabled brother and fucking his nanny… he was a prime candidate for one of those reality television shows about good guys gone bad.

Even so, he couldn’t find the strength or mental capacity to change anything that was currently going on.

Hell, if he was building a house of cards to live in, you better damn well bet that he was going to stay there up until the very minute that everything came toppling down around him.

* * *

Green eyes watched him carefully from across the table. Sam ducked his gaze, focusing on the spaghetti in front of him. It was lunchtime, on a Saturday, and Castiel had taken Kara on an ‘adventure’ — which really just meant that she was due for new clothes, and somehow Cas managed to make shopping more fun for the girl than Sam did, so Sam would hand over his card and wish them well. 

But, of course, that left him sitting alone at the table with his older brother — Dean’s eyes boring a hole in his head. 

His stomach flipped and he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to keep eating, until he knew what had his brother’s attention so fixated. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

Dean tilted his head, “Are you fucking Cas?”

 _Fuck._ He spluttered and coughed a bit, “What?”

“Are you fucking Cas?”

“I—”

“Because if you are, it really isn’t nice to have him continue to sleep in the garage. I mean the dude is practically family, and I’m sure he could fit in the bed with us…”

What. The. Fuck. “You aren’t… mad?”

Dean leaned back a bit, staring at Sam like he was crazy and shaking his head. “Why the fuck would I be mad?”

“You threw a fit when I was going to go on a date! I didn’t think you’d want me involved with someone you had to see daily—”

His brother rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want you dating some loser that wouldn’t understand our family. Do you really want someone else walking into the house when I can’t stand to wear clothing one day? Or seeing me wake up with your cock in my mouth? Come on, Sam, don’t be stupid.”

Sam choked again, feeling like he’d improperly swallowed a bucket of water. “I… you.. But…”

“I’m. Not. An. Idiot. Sam.” Dean slapped his hand on the table. “I know some things aren’t right. I get it. I also know that I love you and I need you to keep being there for me.” When Sam looked up again, he saw the smallest glint in Dean’s eyes, but the slightest movement of Sam’s hand toward Dean, had his brother glaring and Sam shrinking away. “You and Cas… you’re kinda perfect for each other. Plus, he’s also really good at cuddling? And I can’t say I haven’t thought about waking up in between you two sometime.” He looked off towards the window, eyes a little glazed over with happiness. “It’s like the perfect sandwich…”

 _Huh._ He let his brother contemplate sandwiches, while he looked back down at his lunch plate and thought about what Dean had said. In a way, it was everything that Sam’s brain had _wanted_ , but was too afraid to ask for. For some reason he had just assumed that having Cas, would mean losing Dean, or vice versa. But both? Having both men around in every way that they currently were (except with the added benefit of sex with Cas) and everyone being happy?

“You wouldn’t be jealous?” he found himself asking.

“What?” Dean looked at him, waiting a moment before rolling his eyes again. “Of course I wouldn’t be jealous. If my dick worked, I’d be tapping that, but it doesn’t, and I don’t really care that it doesn’t, so as long as I get cuddles? Fuck each other silly. Hell, do it in front of me, for all I care.” He pursed his lips, “Actually, yeah, can I watch some time?”

_Fuckkkkkkk._

“What if Cas doesn’t agree?”

Again, with the eyeroll. “You do know that the guy is stupidly in love with you, right?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Even the dude with a brain injury could notice that one a mile away.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes Dean woke up and didn’t know who he was. He’d blink up at the ceiling and contemplate his existence… only to realize that in his mind at that very moment, ‘existence’ meant breathing in and out with an unsteady pace and trying to remember how to talk.

Other days, those bad moments were just a distant memory and he would wake up in the warm embrace of his brother and his best friend and think about how lucky he was. He liked to turn his head first to the left, and then to the right, making sure to kiss each man gently, before wiggling out from the middle of the bed and getting dressed. He knew that, on weekend mornings, Sam and Cas liked to get frisky once he’d left the room — which was fine. Sometimes he’d watch, sometimes he’d let them have their privacy and keep Kara occupied. 

On that particular Sunday morning, he stepped out of the master bedroom at the exact same time that his niece peeked her head out of her bedroom door, and couldn’t help but smile at her messy bed hair. “Hey, shortstop, want some pancakes?” he asked. Kara rubbed the sleep from her eyes and grabbed onto his hand before walking with him down the stairs. Like her father, she wasn’t very coherent until about twenty minutes after she woke up.

He set her up on the counter and pulled her water bottle out of the fridge, before beginning to fill the counters with the ingredients for banana pancakes. Some days he could remember being in love with meat, but after his accident, any meat flavored products had turned his stomach at the smell and taste. His doctors said it was normal for likes and dislikes to change after an injury as dramatic as his…

“Uncle De?”

He looked up from mashing pancakes in a bowl and caught Kara’s gaze, “Huh?”

“Do I have a mommy?”

He frowned, hand coming to a stop, fork still half mushed through a banana. He tried to remember the details of Kara’s conception… but it seemed to be a part of his brain that didn’t want to function at that particular moment. “You did at one point. You’d have to ask your dad about her.”

“These kids at school made fun of me ‘cause I said I had three dads and they said that was ‘mpossible.”

Dean laughed, “Three?” He looked around the kitchen, “Are you hiding dads somewhere?”

“Yeah, three! I got daddy, of course, and Papa Cas, he’s important.” She reached out and poked his arm, “And you. Daddy, Papa, Uncle De. Three dads.”

He opened his mouth, ready to argue her point except… why? All three men were the main staples in her life, so what did it hurt if she thought of them all as her father figures? It brought a tear to his eye, because more than once he’d thought about the fact that she would be the closest thing to a kid he’d ever have… “Is that okay with you, Kar-bear?”

With a smile, Kara nodded. “‘Course. Three is better than one, right?”

“Can’t argue with that logic.”

“Uncle De?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can we have blueberries in our pancakes?”

“Of course.”

“And Uncle De?”

“Yes, Kara?”

“Why did you put on a shirt, but no pants?”

* * *

\--- **The End.** \---


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